A Graves Turn of Events
by irma66
Summary: Chase Graves looks so familiar, doesn't he? Maybe there's a reason for that...
1. Chapter 1

_Our regularly scheduled program, The Casablancas Legacy, is being pre-empted today by this one shot. What follows is my take on how Chase Graves of iZombie could possibly be Logan Echolls from Veronica Mars. It takes place after the closing events of iZombie 3 X 9, 'Twenty Sided, Die' and is consistent with VM canon through the end of the series, 3 X 20, 'The Bitch is Back'. Perhaps it's a bit contrived, forcing L & V into the iZombie universe, but I'm of the opinion that most universes could be improved with the addition of Logan Echolls so I'm not gonna apologize. :)_

 _Thanks to Elliebear who reviewed this for me and reminded me of what happened to Chase's brother. I tried killing him off in a completely different way._

 _The Casablancas Legacy will return next Saturday with chapter 5._

* * *

"Your little friend should watch herself."

Peyton glanced over at her boss. He was looking a little disheveled since getting shot but Liv had settled him down and the bulletproof vest that was supposed to be a prop had actually come in handy. She wondered briefly if he'd orchestrated the event. Even without the vest, barring a head shot, the attack would never have been more than irritating, and she suspected he was going to end up with a lot of traction in the polls from the photos of him shielding his son from harm.

The room had mostly emptied after the extreme downer of an attempted political assassination but a few diehard partygoers remained, hobnobbing with the elite of Seattle and maximizing use of the open bar. The cops had cleared the guests one by one, taking statements and collecting bullet shells. Peyton had stuck around just in case there was something that needed a response from the District Attorney's office. Although the man himself was still present, she didn't want to leave him to answer on his own. And, she'd be lying if she didn't admit she was still looking for more information on the death of the dominatrix killer. There was something very wrong about the whole situation and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Barracas' attention was on something behind her and she turned to see Liv verbally tearing into a handsome stranger. Justin stood beside Liv, his face ashen with fear. A few of the people left in the room were looking at them with mild interest but a verbal spat didn't garner a lot of attention after multiple gunshots and a police investigation.

"Most important zombie on the planet," DA Baracas said, in a overbearing voice. "That's what I was told, at least."

 _That guy's a zombie?_ Peyton was seriously disappointed. She could climb that man like a tree. She wasn't tiny like Liv so she didn't get that impression from many men but this one...that chest. Even under the jacket, the inverted triangle of his torso was...inspiring.

She started toward the trio. Liv looked furious but the stranger was completely calm. _The most important zombie on the planet, huh?_ She wondered what had set Liv off. Peyton reached the group and put a steadying hand on her best friend's arm.

"Liv?"

All three looked at her. Justin seemed relieved at the interruption. Liv was still angry but the distraction had accomplished its intended result: she stopped talking. The stranger merely looked at her with mild curiosity before looking back at Liv and taking advantage of the momentary silence.

"Ms. Moore, I _will_ have to reserve the right to discipline my men as I see fit. However, I'll keep your thoughts on the subject in mind."

Justin still looked like he wanted to throw up but he reached for Liv's arm. "We were just on our way out. Thank you, sir. Come on, Liv. G'night, Peyton."

Liv took a step toward him but then looked back at Peyton. "Aren't you coming too?"

"Nah, I've gotta make sure the boss behaves himself." She jerked her head back toward Barracas. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Liv nodded, looking suspicious, but she focused on the stranger again as she tucked her arm through Justin's. "Okay, then, well, good night. I'm glad we had a chance to speak, Mr. Graves."

"Thank you, sir, good night," Justin repeated in a slightly shaky voice as he tugged Liv away.

"Night," Peyton said, the stranger echoing her as she watched them walk toward the entrance of the hall. After a moment, she glanced back at the most important zombie in the world—who would probably be a very intriguing underwear model—and saw that he was also watching Liv and Justin, shaking his head and chuckling before turning back to her.

"So thank you. You got me out of quite the tongue lashing."

A completely inappropriate thought about his tongue and where she'd like it lashing flitted through her head and colored her cheeks but she threw it to the back of her mind. _Geez, only a week without Blaine and I'm thinking things like that about total strangers?_

"Liv's a little on edge." She lowered her voice. "It's been a very busy week in the brain business."

His eyebrows rose and she hoped she hadn't said too much. "Please don't hold whatever just happened against her. Or Justin. I don't know him well but he definitely seemed nervous about that whole conversation."

He laughed. "Yeah, I noticed that. As it happens, I have a soft spot for tiny, feisty blondes so Justin will be fine." He put out his hand. "Chase Graves. And you are?"

"Peyton Charles. I'm one of the Assistant District Attorneys for King County." She took his hand and noticed immediately that the giant paw engulfing her hand— _oh why does this guy have to be a zombie?—_ was discreetly checking her pulse and not finding it to his liking.

"Another human in on our secret? Did she take out an ad after she turned?" For all his calm earlier, now he looked furious and Peyton didn't appreciate the slight against Liv.

"No, she did not. She broke her engagement, quit her job, and basically went into hiding from everyone who cared about her, just to keep her secret. But she's my roommate and when a zombie broke into our apartment to try to kill her, he found me instead. She showed up and saved me, but in the process, they both kinda hulked out in front of me." She gave him a thin lipped smile. "No more secret."

"Holy hell," he said, his eyes widening in surprise. "What did you do?"

She shrugged. "Umm, what any normal human would do, I think. Ran away in terror. Didn't come back for a while."

Chase barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that seems like a reasonable reaction. So, how long have you known?"

"Probably longer than you have," she replied. Even with the thaw in his demeanor, she was still a little irritated at the implication that she was some kind of weak link.

"Okay. I get it. Things have been a little different here." He gazed down at her intently. "I apologize if I insulted you. I'm still a little...overwhelmed by the responsibility for all these people. I wasn't supposed to be in charge. My brother got me into the military side of the business when I needed focus for my life. I never had any desire to run the whole business and I certainly never wanted to be responsible for a bunch of people's actual lives. There was a time I could barely manage my own." He looked uncomfortably at Peyton. "Sorry. Didn't mean to spill my guts."

Peyton wasn't much into sharing feelings herself, especially with a complete stranger, so she was a little surprised by her next words. "It's okay. Seems like maybe you need an outlet. You already know I can be discreet. Hell, I'm an attorney, gimme a dollar—we'll call it a retainer and everything we talk about will be protected under attorney-client privilege."

Chase threw his head back laughing, the most relaxed she'd seen him since she first noticed him. He took a step closer to her, resting his hand on her arm.

"My wife says exactly the same thing," he said in a very low voice.

 _Wife?_ That was unexpected.

He reached inside his jacket, going for a wallet, she assumed, but quickly pulled his hand back, still empty. "Sorry, I don't have a buck on me. Can I owe you?"

"Well, I don't know," Peyton answered, a little disappointed another married man was hitting on her. Not that anything could happen anyway, him being a zombie and all. Maybe she'd misread him? "I was offering an ear because you didn't seem to have one, but if you've got a wife, then I was mistaken."

"No, she's in California, at least that's where she's supposed to be." The smirk on his face suggested that maybe she wasn't actually there but he looked amused rather than irritated. "I've been begging her to stay with the kids in Ventura. She's safer there. I mean, look at this mess tonight. She finds trouble more easily than anyone I know so I'm very nervous about her getting up here. Especially with what just happened to Viv. I don't want her getting caught up in whatever is going on here."

Peyton nodded. She knew firsthand how ugly things had already gotten. Adding the zombie truthers to the mix added to the danger.

"You said she's an attorney?"

Chase smiled. "She's actually an ADA, too, for Ventura County. She's been doing as I asked and staying put while I was overseas, but I've been back stateside for a couple of weeks. I expect it's not gonna be too much longer before she shows up here, no matter how logical my arguments for her staying away. She tends to do what she wants. And truthfully," his voice lowered again, "I'm going nuts without her."

Peyton smiled again, relieved. Boasting about your wife wasn't exactly normal pickup talk for a guy looking to hook up with someone else. "Why aren't they all up here in your little Fillmore Graves compound anyway?" she asked. Knowing the super hot zombie had a wife he was pining for actually made interaction with him easier. "It seems like they'd be more secure up here. Safety in numbers, you know?"

"Well..." He looked around them and Peyton did too, suddenly concerned about prying eyes and ears since he seemed so worried. The room had cleared out even more. "The company party, where everyone was infected? I was the only one of us there."

Her eyes widened. The Fillmore Graves people had a huge burden with all of the employees and their families infected but the fact that they were all together seemed like one good thing in the whole terrible situation. Peyton remembered when Liv broke off her engagement to Major after she'd been turned, before anyone else knew. It had been devastating for them both.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. That must be so..terrible for you."

"It's okay. We just didn't want the kids up here. They're safer in their regular environment, where a squabble over a toy in a playgroup won't turn them into the Walking Dead." He gave a grim smile. "In a way, it was a playgroup that kept them home that weekend. Our oldest picked up the chickenpox from a playmate and he passed it on to his baby sister. Veronica stayed home with them but Vivian was insistent that I attend and Veronica made me come up. She always makes—made—me do whatever Harrison, my brother, wanted me to do. She said she owed him for keeping me alive for her."

Peyton blinked in surprise. "I haven't really looked into the Fillmore Graves history but I'd heard your brother is deceased. Did he die from the infection?"

"No, he got caught up in this zombie on zombie violence that's been happening here," Chase said, a scowl on his face. "From what I was told, he was killed by a brains dealer. Can you believe it? Who would think of that? Sociopath as entrepreneur."

Peyton grimaced. _Oh God, please let it not have been Blaine..._

"That's one of the reasons we've pushed to keep the brain paste available for everyone. Less chance of getting caught up in the crossfire of the unscrupulous. Plus, the part about taking on personality traits? That can be very hard to deal with in a larger community."

Peyton nodded ruefully, imagining Liv's erratic behavior spread over a large group, including kids. "I can certainly see that. I'm very sorry to hear about your brother. Were the two of you close growing up?"

Chase shook his head. "Thanks. And no, I didn't meet him 'til I was twenty. He was the second unknown half brother I learned about. Since then, I've realized there's a third but he's someone I actually knew from high school and I wouldn't claim that drug dealing son-of-a-bitch if my life depended on it."

"Wow. That's dramatic. How do you discover unknown siblings? Should I be checking into something?"

He shook his head again; his smile wry. "Probably not. Most people aren't cursed with a father like mine, although it's true that there has turned out to be more of us poor unfortunate souls who can claim him than I ever would have guessed growing up. Veronica figured out the first one; there was a lot more money disappearing from my bank accounts than even my ridiculous lifestyle could explain and I thought my accountants were ripping me off. Veronica figured out it was an arrangement my father had reached with one of his mistresses to support his son. Things went a little off-track then, there was a reporter impersonating this new brother, and I thought Charlie—my brother—sent him, so I outed him on Larry King to keep my own life from hitting the tabloids again. That brother still doesn't talk to me."

"You went on Larry King? Who are you?"

Chase smiled and shook his head. "Nuh uh. We no longer speak that name. After Veronica left town and I fell down the rabbit hole, I figured out that Harrison was out there. That one was on my terms and, lucky for me, he was actually welcoming. I was kinda a mess back then. He hooked me up with his military group and made something out of me. Dear old Dad would never have believed it."

"Okay, this is like a soap opera," Peyton said, shaking her head. "I hope you're ready to talk because you need to tell me how this happened. We've got the IOU for the buck that's keeping my mouth shut. Veronica left you but now you're married. How'd that happen?"

He looked bemused. "You really don't want to hear this whole thing."

"Oh, you're wrong about that," she said with a laugh. "My grandma and I were very into our stories when I was young. Let me buy you a drink so you can spin your exciting tale."

He laughed and motioned her ahead of him toward the bar. "Pretty sure I paid for this to be a hosted bar but sure, why not."

"Well, you got your money's worth. This was probably the only crime scene ever with an open bar."

They ordered their drinks and Peyton moved to a small table.

"Okay, so, let's see," Chase began, a teasing smirk on his face. "First year of college, we were together again, and it was troubled, to say the least. At the start of the next school year, I heard from her best friend, step-brother now, that she'd gone off to Stanford. She'd deferred her acceptance the year before and they took her for sophomore year."

"She didn't even say goodbye?" This _was_ like a soap opera.

"Nope. I got a card for my birthday the next year. She missed me but we were toxic. I was her oldest friend and someday we'd be able to make that work but right now, we needed to get ourselves together."

"Oh, that's harsh." Peyton wrinkled her nose. She may have just met this guy, but she was enjoying his company a lot, and she really wasn't sure she liked his wife.

"Maybe, but she was right. I just couldn't see it yet. Partway through the next year, I figured out that Harrison was out there and got her dad to help me hunt him down."

"Her dad? How'd that happen?"

"He was a private investigator. Veronica worked for him through high school. She was a great investigator. That summer between freshman and sophomore years of college, she did an internship with the FBI. That's how good she was." The pride in his voice made Peyton grin.

"But you said that she was an ADA in Ventura, not a cop." The server came up then, a Lemon Drop for Peyton, Scotch on the rocks for Chase.

"That messed up freshman year of college I mentioned, some of that was because of investigations. She kept getting herself into situations; I was going nuts with worry. At one point, I hired a bodyguard to follow her around and he scared her worse than the actual rapist she was pursuing."

"A rapist?"

"Serial rapist, yeah. Turned out to be a friend of mine. Good times." He took a drink. "So, I was high-handed, she was dismissive, and we were both too broken on our own to help each other heal. She was right to leave."

"And then you found your brother?" Peyton prompted. She didn't entirely share his opinion on Veronica's actions but it wasn't for her to say.

"Yeah, and he saw pretty quickly that I was spinning out of control. So he hooked me up with his private army division and I went through their basic training. Shockingly, I made it through and decided that maybe there was something to be gained from that life."

"What did Veronica think?"

"She didn't know. I was in boot camp for my birthday the next year. Her card got forwarded to me by my old roommate. She still missed me. She thought she was figuring out how to live her life without hurting anyone else. She hoped I was doing the same."

He paused, resting his hands on the table and lacing his fingers together. "That message was a big part of why I stuck with Fillmore Graves' private army operations. I did feel like I was figuring out how to live my life. I couldn't quite say without hurting anyone else—private mercenary operation and all—but even with that, I felt like I was becoming a better person. By the next year, I was commanding a unit. The birthday card found its way to me and she was doing great. She'd gotten her act together, she was graduating from Stanford that year, and she was heading to Berkeley the next year for law school. She hoped I was well."

Chase's voice trailed off and Peyton peered at him. "Why do you make it seem like things aren't going the right way? That sounds good to me."

"She was gonna be a Berkeley lawyer. I was a mercenary. Do those seem compatible to you?" He swirled the last of his drink in the glass. "I decided then that I was going to become this other person, once and for all. I'd been using my mother's maiden name but I asked Harrison if I could legally take his name." Chase downed the last swallow. "He was amazing. Told me he'd be proud to share his name with me. He made me feel more wanted than anyone ever had in my entire life. So I formally made the change. Logan Graves."

Peyton's eyebrows shot up. " _Logan_ Graves? I thought your name was Chase?"

"Chase Graves? What kind of psycho would actually choose a name like that?" He laughed, then signaled the waiter, holding up two fingers. "No, Chase was more like a call sign, like Maverick and Goose, ya know. It just stuck, and it does provide more distance from who I used to be."

"Call signs have stories," Peyton said in a teasing voice. "Spill."

He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Not long after boot camp, I got caught up in an operation that unfortunately ended up with me 'chasing' down a target through a marketplace in Saudi Arabia. The locals weren't exactly on my side and I had just about anything you can think of thrown at me during that pursuit."

Peyton burst into laughter. "Like...what? Vegetables?"

"Vegetables yes, fruit, baskets, several live chickens. It was not pretty."

"And after that, you were Chase."

"You got it. When I petitioned for the formal name change, it was only of my last name. But nearly everyone called me Chase by then and everyone I worked with seemed to think that 'Chase Graves' was the height of irony for our line of work so it got to the point that no one even remembered that my name was actually Logan. Except Harrison, of course."

"Okay then. New name, new career. When the next birthday card came, what then?"

"Returned to sender. I was overseas by the next birthday and the guy that card was addressed to...he didn't exist anymore, so no forwarding address. I didn't even realize that it was my birthday on the day; I was hip deep in a muddy bog, doing security for a herd of elephants."

"What?" Peyton choked out.

"Poachers were wiping out a herd of elephants, harvesting the ivory. We were...discouraging them."

"That's awesome! Is that true?"

"Oh yeah. Turns out there was more risk from the elephants themselves than from the poachers. We took the poachers out with no serious casualties on either side but between the mud and the elephants, I had two guys end up with broken legs."

"Oh no," she said, trying not very successfully not to laugh. The waiter showed up then with another round of drinks. "So you get back from the elephant project and then what? Did you remember that you should have gotten a birthday card?"

"Yeah, but I didn't seek her out. It was kinda the test. I knew she could find me if she wanted to. I was finally okay on my own but I knew that if I sought her out, and she still didn't want to be with me, it was gonna leave a mark. By leaving it hanging out there, a what could have been, I didn't have to face that maybe it was really over."

"So how long did it take?"

"It was three months 'til her first year of law school was over and after that, she came looking. She got my best friend to bankroll her and it took her almost half the summer but she tracked me down in Bangladesh."

"And then what?" Peyton asked, excited.

"We had a giant fight."

"Oh."

He laughed at her. "Yeah, foreplay. It's how we roll. We came back to California in time for school to start and, by then, her last name was Graves too."

"Oh yay!" Peyton cried, gleefully rubbing her hands together and grinning. A moment later, she rolled her eyes and shook her head at her own silliness. "I can't believe I got so caught up in this. I'm not this type of girl."

"Eh, we're very entertaining people. And I learned how to captivate an audience at my mother's knee. You didn't stand a chance." They both laughed.

"Okay, so, you come back home, you're married, she goes back to school; what did you do?"

"I kept doing the same thing I'd always done. I couldn't just wait for her to come home from law school and pay attention to me. I had a career, a life of my own. Going back to a life circling her wasn't going to be good for either of us. Luckily, we both understood that by then."

He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. "So I'd leave for weeks at a time, come back for a while, get my Veronica fix, and then go out on another assignment. It worked for us through the end of law school. After she graduated, our oldest, Nick, was born in the three months between graduation and sitting for the Bar, and then she took a job with the DA in Ventura. I cut back on the international assignments after that. Harrison didn't want me away from my family any more than I did. Aly was born almost two years later."

"After that, we lived almost like normal people for a couple years. Then, the infamous Fillmore-Graves company party. The entire employee base and their families, and me, infected with God knows what. Harrison and Viv immediately went into crisis-mode, pulling everyone together into seclusion, scientists working on whatever was happening to us. The brains thing...that became apparent fairly quickly. Some rumors about things that had been happening in Seattle started to trickle in. Finally, about three weeks after the party, they finally let me go home. We'd already realized that the military operations were going to be even more effective out in the field with this undead thing going on, and I'd committed to my brother that I'd take the lead in that. Veronica was okay with that; she knew it was important to me."

Peyton suddenly had a thought that seemed too personal to voice. She frowned down at her martini glass, wondering how much she wanted to know what happened next. Her head jerked up at Chase's laugh.

"Why am I sure that I know where your mind just went?"

"You're pretty sure you know what I'm thinking when we met less than an hour ago?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Pretty sure. The science division was working overtime on what was happening, trying to see if there was some kind of cure, what could sustain everyone, whether there was any cognitive deficits showing in the children. What you've gotta remember is that everyone in the population being studied was already infected and we were not generally interacting with the outside world. No one was paying attention to further transmission."

 _Yeah, he does know what I'm wondering about._

"The rumors of bites and scratches had come through from the original boat party so when I got home, I actually wore gloves. I was not going to infect my family with whatever this was. They'd stayed safe for a reason and I wasn't going to change that. I couldn't stay away; I knew it might be the last time, but I had to be with them once more."

"I am so sorry," Peyton said. "This has been really hard on Liv; she's mostly estranged from her mother since she couldn't donate blood when her brother needed it without being found out and it's been terrible but your wife...and your kids...to have to keep your distance like that. I can't even imagine. But you know now, as long as you don't go full-on zombie and you're careful, you don't have to be apart from them. Some limitations obviously..."

"Yeah, you're right. But Veronica took matters into her own hands before I realized one of the ways that the condition could be passed." He colored slightly, under his spray-on tan.

"What do you mean? Did she know that...you could infect her by...you know?"

"She was pretty sure. Like I said before, our scientists weren't concentrating on transmission. She's brilliant though, and it's not a big leap to get suspicious that sex is a common way to transfer infections of whatever sort. Like she said after, if nothing happened, then we knew that was safe. And if it did, well, I wasn't going to have to do anything noble and stay away forever." He shook his head, his eyes rolling. "Outsmarted again."

"And the kids?"

"No. We've taken every precaution with them. The rest of the Fillmore Graves' kids seem reasonably healthy but it's been too recent to know if they're continuing to grow normally or if they're staying at whatever level they were at when they were infected. Nick will be five in a couple of months and Aly just turned three. They're adorable at this age but we don't want them to be pre-schoolers forever. We want them to grow up, be fifteen and thirteen, twenty-five and twenty-three, give us grandkids, you know? Experience life. So no, there will be no efforts to change them. Veronica's dad and stepmom moved into the gatehouse on our property. We've already made them the kids' legal guardians, even though everything's still being handled the same as always. We just were concerned that if something changes and we become...unstable...we didn't want Keith and Alicia to have any legal troubles getting them out and away from us. We can't know that there won't be some deterioration and we might not be in the state of mind to go along with what's best later on."

"You don't have any concern that they'll just take them anyway?"

"No," he said emphatically. "I would trust both of them with all of our lives. They won't just take Veronica's kids away from us unless there's a good reason. Now, it is true that Keith's pissed as hell at me—again—for Veronica's situation but that's nothing new. He's been mad at me off and on since we were twelve. She keeps insisting that she's the one that orchestrated her change, but she's his precious, and I'm just that pesky kid who's broken her heart repeatedly but won't go away and leave her alone." He shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."

Peyton chuckled. "It sounds like you're all making the best of a bad situation." She took the final drink of her martini and put the empty glass on the table. "I can't believe you've told me all this but, as weird as this is going to sound, especially since we just met, I'm honored that you shared with me. I appreciate you trusting me with this."

"Attorney-client privilege, right?"

"Well, I am still waiting on that buck." They both laughed and then rose from their chairs. "You know, I think that your science people should meet up with Liv's boss at the morgue. He's been concentrating on a cure but the prime ingredient that he needs isn't available any longer. I have a feeling your resources might be more substantial than his. Together, you might be able to fix this problem and then 'D Day' can go back to just being a historical reference. And you can go home to your family."

"That would be the best case scenario." They headed out toward the parking lot. "Do you have a card? I can pass it on to our Director of Health Services and you can hook them up with your friend."

"That would be great. I've got business cards in my briefcase in my car." Peyton lead Chase to her car where she opened her trunk and dug her business card holder out. "Here, take a few. If the boss wins this election, they'll be changing anyway with a new DA and I've got a ton of these."

She handed the cards to Chase and shut her trunk. As she turned back toward him, she noticed a short blonde woman in blue jeans and a dark jacket approaching.

"So, I get to town and first thing find you chatting up statuesque brunettes. Is this a piano wire situation?"

Chase's face lit up and he pivoted toward the woman. "Bobcat!"

He was next to her in a flash, lifting her in his arms and twirling her in a circle, kissing her like it had been a year since he'd seen her last. Peyton leaned back against her car, watching the reunion with satisfaction. Chase finally let the woman slide back to her feet, but he continued to gaze down at her with a smile on his face that Peyton hadn't seen all night, stroking her cheek softly. The presumed Veronica gazed back up at him with similar adoration but only for a moment before she focused her attention back on Peyton.

"So, the statuesque brunette?" she asked, her head tilted like a cat ready to pounce.

"Hi," Peyton said, stepping toward them with her hand outstretched. "Peyton Charles, with the District Attorney's office. It's great to get to meet you."

"You say that like you already know who I am," the woman responded.

"I may have kinda talked about you a little," Chase said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear then kissing her temple.

"Oh really?" The fond exasperation in her voice was palpable. "Don't tell me...gimme a buck and you've got attorney-client privilege."

Chase laughed, glancing over at Peyton with an embarrassed look. "Works for you and Weevil."

"Yes, but Weevil actually pays me in those situations." Veronica looked at Peyton with her eyebrows high. "But I would bet a lot more than a buck that you didn't pay her."

Peyton laughed. "You're right, but I swear, you can both trust me. I know how important secrecy is right now." She squinted at the couple, trying to figure out how the woman had figured out that no money had actually changed hands. "How did you know that?"

"He's rich," Veronica said flatly. "Rich guys never carry lowly dollar bills. He's got like seven credit cards in his wallet but the smallest bill will probably be a fifty." She dug into her front pocket and handed a crumpled dollar bill to her husband. "Pay the woman, Logan." He ducked his head and peered up at them both from under his eyelashes.

 _Holy crap, he's hot and adorable._

"Fine. Ms. Charles, your retainer." He held out the wrinkled dollar, then grimaced and tried flattening it against his leg before holding it out to her again. "Where'd you get this thing? Loretta Cancun's g-string?"

Peyton had been reaching for the bill, but at those words, she pulled her hand back rapidly and Veronica pealed out a laugh.

"Well, Cliff did come up to see Dad and we might have engaged in some poker so, let's just say I liberated that dollar bill before it made its way into Loretta Cancun's g-string." She smirked at Peyton. "Lucky little dollar." Peyton looked at her, still a little concerned about where the dollar might have been, but she took it from Chase and held it gingerly between her fingers.

"Okay then, we're all good. Be sure to have your science folks call me and I'll set something up with Ravi right away. I think there's a good chance that with your resources and his brain, the one in his head, that is, we might be able to get everyone back to normal."

Veronica's head jerked at those words but she was silent.

"Absolutely, first thing tomorrow. It was great talking to you, Peyton. We'll chat again soon." Chase raised his hand in a quick wave and Veronica smiled at her as they turned and walked toward a limo. Peyton grinned as she watched Chase pull Veronica against him, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as they walked.

"Have a good night, guys," she said in a low voice and stepped into her car.


	2. Chapter 2

_Since chapter 1 posted about 8 months ago, iZombie has seriously veered away from where this AU went. I think it goes without saying that this Chase would not have taken Liv up to his hotel room desk and I hope that with Veronica in the mix, Plan B would have been thwarted before Seattle officially became Zombietown._

 _I've been pushing around the idea of continuing in this AU, so Veronica could embark on a buddy cop adventure with Liv. Day 1 of the Logan/Veronica AU Week focused on crossovers, so I decided to at least get started, to help celebrate 4 years since our movie. I can't promise I'll ever get to the actual adventure part of this story, but at least here's the start._

* * *

"Veronica, come on, this is a terrible idea."

Logan "Chase" Graves sat on his hotel bed, watching his wife carefully apply eyeliner. She had someplace to be this morning, and he wasn't happy about it. Unfortunately, while he had no problem commanding the entire Fillmore Graves field army, and now its civilian brigade as well, he'd learned a long time ago that he had zero ability to tell Veronica no if she didn't want to be told.

"Logan, stop worrying. I'm excited about this. I think it'll be fun."

He flopped back on the mattress with a huff. "Fun. Yeah."

She laughed, then stood and walked back to the bed, climbing up to stretch out beside him. "Logan, what's the big deal? Investigating things is how I grew up. Yeah, I'm not in the field much anymore—"

He huffed again. "This isn't sitting in front of the Camelot to catch some idiot cheating on his wife. This is a murder investigation."

"I've solved murders before. Several of them, in fact. And I'm going to be working with the police. What could go wrong?"

He knew he probably should be embarrassed by the disbelieving squeak that registered in his throat, but it was Veronica. He didn't have to prove himself to her. Not anymore. "Oh God, don't say things like that. It's like an invitation to the universe to chase you down and try to stomp on you."

She chuckled and snuggled against him, resting her cheek and hand on his chest. "You're just mad that I'm getting a designer meal. That stupid paste is the worst."

He tugged her closer. "You know that's not the problem."

"If you weren't such a fucking puritan who won't sleep with me when I'm on another brain's personality..."

"We did that once. I don't want to do it again." He rolled her up to rest on top of him. "And again, you know that's not why I'm not crazy about this plan of yours." At the rise of her skeptical eyebrows, he shrugged. "Okay, I'm not a fan of you turning yourself into someone else, because that does take you out of my reach. In some ways at least."

She pressed her palms against his cheeks. "It's not for long, and stop worrying, I'm going to be fine. Liv's been doing this for a couple of years. You heard her last week. This isn't inherently dangerous. She gets a brain vision and sometimes can just figure things out. You know I'm good with the figuring out part." She stroked his face, lowering her head to brush her lips across his.

"I'm your husband, Veronica, not your boss. No, I don't love the idea, but when was the last time I _made_ you do anything?"

She gave him a begrudging nod, that was belied by the warm look in her eyes. "Pretty much never. Except the no sex on other brains thing. That seems to be a hard limit for you."

"Well, of course, what do you think? I only want you. And I think it shouldn't be hard to understand why I won't be a guy who takes advantage of your altered state. I don't care how much you beg."

He caught a glimpse of her cheeks staining pink before she hid her face in his chest. "Will you never let me live that down?"

"You're kidding, right? That answer is an absolute no." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, grinning as she shook with embarrassed laughter. "Ooh, Logan, please," he teased in a high-pitched voice.

"Ugh, no, just stop." He laughed as she swatted at his chest. "All right, get serious. Can't you get on board with this plan? I just want to give it a try. Who knows how much longer it'll even be an option. Between Dr. Chakrabarti and the science department, there's a good chance we're all going to be human again soon."

"Maybe." She raised her eyebrows at his dubious tone, then powered on like he hadn't interrupted her.

"And once that happens, I won't have a chance to get in a dead guy's head to try to figure out who killed him. I mean seriously. Think how long it took to figure out about Lilly. And the Dean. And if we could have done this with the Dean's wife; we might have found out if Professor Landry actually killed her or if she did just fall off the boat like he claimed."

"Wouldn't have helped with the bus crash victims." He combed his fingers through her hair. "And let's get real. You weren't going to eat Lilly's brain."

"Not back then, obviously. But if I was a zombie, and I had this opportunity to find out what happened to her, you bet your ass I would have." He wrinkled his nose, disturbed by the image she was conjuring for him, but of course, she wasn't done creeping him out. "And think about it. What if we'd known about how this works back when Harrison died...maybe we could have figured out who killed him. Viv was probably more like the kids on the bus; she probably had no idea that anything even happened before it was over, but your brother..."

"Yeah, you might be right," he interrupted, not wanting to get her going along that line of thinking. The thought of Veronica, or anyone, eating his brother's brain, made him want to vomit, but she wasn't completely wrong. "But, it's too late now."

"Yeah, unfortunately, that's true." They were silent for a few moments, lost in thoughts of Harrison and Vivian, before Logan shook off the sudden melancholy and ran his hands down Veronica's back. "Okay, so what time are you supposed to be at the morgue?"

"Around 10:30 AM. How about you? What's your schedule like this morning?" This time, she was the one who squeaked as he flipped her onto her back and rolled to press against her. "Logan! What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? You have time, and I don't have anything scheduled this morning that Carey can't handle as well as I can. If you're leaving here in an hour to become someone else for a few days, I think I need a little authentic Veronica on Logan action to tide me over until you're the only one in your head again."

"Oh really?' She grinned up at him, wrapping her legs around him and hooking her heels together. "Authentic Veronica, you say?"

He shrugged and nodded, then dropped his head to nuzzle at her neck. "The only acceptable Veronica." He nipped at her collarbone and she rolled her head to the side.

"All right, you convinced me," she said in a breathless voice. "I've got a while before Liv's expecting me, and a little one on one time sounds like a great idea."


	3. Chapter 3

Veronica clipped the visitor's pass to her jacket and followed the desk sergeant's directions to the elevator. Despite what she'd been insisting to Logan, she was a little nervous. She'd had straight brains before, what zombie hadn't, but never from someone who'd been murdered. She may have told Logan that this wasn't going to be a big deal, but she wasn't actually sure that was true. She'd lived through post-traumatic stress in the past—the whole year after Lilly's death was pretty much one long episode. She just hoped that she wasn't courting more strife by inviting a murder victim into her brain. Life could be complicated enough as it was, occasionally re-living her own traumas; it probably wasn't her best idea ever to live through someone else's violent death.

She was willing to take the chance though. Trying out this way of solving crime excited her. She'd tried talking to her dad about it the night before, after she and Logan had talked to Nick and Aly, but Keith had been more than a little squeamish at the concept, and more skeptical than even Logan about the idea. Of course, Keith had never been under the influence of another brain before, unlike Logan, so it was harder for him to grasp the concept, and he mostly just didn't want to think about the idea. The whole zombie thing was outside of his comfort zone.

Obviously Logan understood; he just didn't like it. And although he always did his best to act nonchalant, he absolutely hated her losing herself to someone else's brain. That was a particular issue that Keith would probably never consider, since he'd still never heard about the long-ago events of Shelly Pomroy's party. Logan, on the other hand—talk about PTSD. He'd never gotten over his part in the events of that night and anything that might lessen her knowing consent was, as she'd teased him in bed earlier in the day, a hard no as far as he was concerned.

Veronica jabbed the elevator button to the basement, smirking to herself as she contemplated Logan the prude. That had been a side of him that she'd never experienced before the infamous brain sex incident, and it still made her laugh, although she usually tried not to do it to his face.

Logan was pretty serious about the brain paste. On top of the non-con events of their formative years, the first few weeks after the whole Fillmore-Graves population had been turned had had an impact on him. So many people, acting out to extremes, had taken its toll, and when it was determined that a paste made from multiple brains seemed to cancel out the effects of all of its source brains rather than give the diner multiple personality disorder, he'd been very vocal with Harrison and Vivian about manufacturing the paste to provide as the primary food source for the entire group. It wasn't like he cared that much about what he ate to begin with—he'd never been what you might call a 'foodie', and he'd spent several years with MRE's as his main meal source, so the boring paste didn't bother him.

The same could not be said about Veronica. She'd finally figured out that brain paste had a similar texture to ricotta cheese and at that point, she'd gone back to her Italian staples: manicotti, stuffed shells, and lasagna. In the meantime, however, she'd had her share of unadulterated brain, much more frequently than Logan had. He was perfectly happy with the paste straight out of the tube, and even with the decrease in her sense of taste, the paste made her want to gag. When he'd been overseas, and she'd been the only zombie in Ventura—as far as she knew at least—all she'd eaten was whole brains, supplied by her in-laws, and shipped to her on dry ice like they were Omaha Steaks. She'd tried to keep her portion size small, to make her supplies last, and to avoid too much brain contamination. An Assistant District Attorney needed to present themselves with a certain level of decorum after all, so acting like someone completely different definitely had its down side.

She stepped out of the elevator into the corridor and, with a quick look at the informational signs, headed toward the morgue. She and Logan had had Peyton and her roommate over for dinner a week ago, and she'd learned about Liv Moore's 'psychic' detective gig with the Seattle PD. She'd peppered Liv with questions about the cases she'd been involved with, getting more and more excited with each story. When Peyton suggested that Veronica might want to team up with Liv on a future case, she'd jumped on the idea, and when she saw Liv's text earlier that morning, she'd wasted no time in replying with an enthusiastic "YES!", complete with excited smiley-face emoticons.

Veronica poked her head around the door marked 'Morgue' and, seeing no one, stepped inside to a waiting area. There was an open doorway on the opposite wall that appeared to lead to a larger space.

"Hello?" she called.

"Good morning," answered a friendly voice, and Liv appeared in the opposite doorway. "Glad you could make it on such short notice." She beckoned Veronica in. "Come on in. It's just me and Ravi here right now. We've had some questions come up in the preliminary exam, but I'm hoping we'll be ready to excise the brain soon. Come on in to the office. Ravi's in the lab, but this'll give me a chance to show you around."

Veronica stepped inside, then followed Liv. They moved into an office and Liv gestured Veronica to a chair in front of the desk, then she sat behind it.

"You've never witnessed an autopsy, I presume."

"No. And I don't really want to watch this one. I'd prefer that my involvement pretty much be limited to the chowing down, if that's okay with you." Veronica looked speculatively at Liv. It was interesting that she'd kept the change in her coloring that had resulted from her zombie transformation. Veronica had never met anyone else who had done that, although she herself had considered it briefly, after waking up next to Logan for the first time, even paler than she'd been to start with. He'd convinced her that it would be too off-putting for the kids and her dad, and probably her boss as well. She hadn't even realized that the loss of hair color and skin tone was a thing until she woke up that morning, since Logan had come home to her already 'tanned and dyed' after his initial change.

"It's no problem. It's not as big a deal as you might think; since the heart's not pumping, there's not really any bleeding or anything. But it's still a lot for most people. Most people have never even seen anyone dead." Liv gave her a friendly smile. "But being a zombie's not exactly for the faint of heart. I think if you've managed to live through such a big change in your life, you can probably handle just about anything."

"Yeah, you might be right about that. Personally, I have seen a dead body. My best friend, still where she'd fallen after her murderer clubbed her in the head." Liv cringed. "Let's just say that I've had plenty of traumatic events in my life, and becoming a zombie probably isn't the worst of it." Veronica huffed disbelievingly, as she realized that seeing Lilly as she had, and her showdowns with Aaron and Cassidy and Mercer had all been far worse experiences than being turned into an actual monster. "Although with the kids and everything, becoming a zombie probably has the most potential for long-term, life-changing ramifications. But if I'm honest, I pretty much orchestrated being turned. I knew all along that there was a possibility of it happening when I finally got Logan home after the outbreak at the company picnic. The fact of the matter was, making the change was a means to an end. I wasn't going to let Logan get away because he didn't want to infect us, so I did what I had to do to stop that from happening."

"Makes sense. Pretty risky though. And brave."

""Nah. It was much easier than the alternative." She shook her head. She didn't think she could explain to someone that becoming a zombie was far preferable to losing Logan again. "So, I think you were going to give me the grand tour."

"Oh, yeah, sure. We're pretty contained down here. Office—" Liv stood and held her arms out, swiveling her body to motion around the room. "You saw the waiting room already. Through there—" she pointed through a door behind Veronica "—is the lab. Ravi can show you that later. And over here—" she moved toward a door beside her "—is the main morgue area. The refrigerated cabinets for storage, and the autopsy suite." She stepped into the next room and Veronica followed. "We have a window there—" she gestured to the far wall, where a heavy curtain did appear to cover a window "—if we need someone to make an identification."

"Ugh, that part of the job must suck," Veronica said.

"Yeah, that is one of the harder things about what we do." She pivoted away from the curtained wall toward the area she'd previously called the autopsy suite and moved forward again. "We pulled our victim out shortly before you got here, but then ran into an issue."

Veronica followed Liv, noticing that one of the several tables in the room appeared to have a sheet covered body laying on it. She glanced up at the body of the murder victim, then started at the strange sight. "What the hell?"

A tall, dark, bearded man entered the room in time to hear her exclamation and he laughed at her shock. "It's a charcoal mask. We haven't cleaned it off yet, because someone in this room suspected there might be something extra in it." Veronica watched as the man and Liv exchanged meaningful looks. "And, it turns out that someone was correct. The ingredients you might expect to find in a black beauty mask...plus a slightly less expected touch of Lidocaine. About a 30% solution of Lidocaine."

"Uh huh, I was right," Liv said with a 'told ya so' tone to her voice. "Didn't I say it made my fingers numb?"

"Yes, you did, and you were absolutely correct." The man turned toward Veronica, extending his hand with a flourish. "Mrs. Graves, I presume. Doctor Ravi Chakrabarti, at your service."

Liv scoffed, but Veronica gave him a big smile and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Doctor, but please, call me Veronica."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Veronica; I'm Ravi."

They shook quickly, then Ravi tipped his hand toward the corpse, looking between Veronica and Liv. "This is an unexpected situation here. Over-the-counter Lidocaine tops out at around a 5% solution. In prescription strength, about 10% is the highest you'll find. That mask has three times that strength. It would have been enough to paralyze the victim's facial muscles, probably give her an irregular heartbeat, and most likely disorient her."

"Hang on," Veronica said, glancing at Liv. "This morning you said you had a gunshot victim, but this woman was poisoned? Is this another victim?"

"No, it's the same person. She was shot. Base of the head," Liv replied. She furrowed her brow and frowned. "Maybe the cream made it easier to catch her off guard?"

"Huh." Veronica glanced again at the corpse. "Is the poison cream going to impact the brain? I'm not sure I'm into the idea of getting paralyzed and disoriented. Being on a brain can be disorienting all on its own. And I can assure you that my husband will have an absolute shit fit if I deliberately poison myself." She grinned at Liv and Ravi. "He's a tad overprotective."

Ravi shook his head. "Now that I've confirmed that there was some poisoning involved, I'll want to do an analysis of the brain tissue before we try this. We need to see if there was any contamination. If there is any presence of the Lidocaine in the brain, we'll skip this one for your little experiment in brain-based crime fighting. This is a big city; there'll be another murder before too long."

"Yeah, we don't do this with every murder victim," Liv explained. "We'd need more zombie helpers if we were going to do this on every case."

"New job opportunity," Veronica suggested. "There are quite a few zombies now, with all the Fillmore Graves people. If you ever have a need, they can probably find some people who could help."

"Maybe, but it'd be hard to explain how we know stuff if we did that." Liv pulled on a pair of gloves and began to clean the dark mask off the dead woman's face. "The Seattle P.D. thinks I'm a psychic. With you, we'll put it off to my visions and your detective background. If we try to add a bunch of others, and start bringing in a bunch of zombie housewives to pass them off as more psychic detectives, I'm pretty sure we're gonna get some pushback."

"Yeah, I can see that being a tough sell." Veronica chuckled as she stepped closer to where Liv was working. "So you still have to clean up the poison mask and do the rest of your examination before you can harvest the brain and test it, right? Is this even going to happen today? I can come back tomorrow if it makes more sense. Or later this afternoon? I don't want to just mill around and get in the way."

"Yeah, that might be true. Like I mentioned earlier, we weren't expecting to have this issue with the mask crop up. I thought we'd be ready to go when you got here, but then I noticed my fingers had all gone numb after I started to clean off the mask." Liv dropped a soiled cloth into a plastic bag on the tray next to her, then moved around the table, grabbing a fresh cloth as she began to work on the other side of the woman's face. "A little later isn't a bad thing anyway. After the Brain Paste Stuffed Shells you made for dinner last week, I thought you might enjoy a little Brain Parmesan. I've got everything for the breading, the cheese, and the spicy marinara sauce." She glanced over her shoulder with a smirk at Veronica. "Italian food isn't exactly your normal brunch menu though. Late lunch or an early dinner would probably be better. And, I did share my plan with that over-protective husband you mentioned earlier, and he kindly sent over a nice Chianti to go with the entrée."

Veronica laughed. "He didn't tell me. He was too busy whining about the whole idea; I never thought he'd actually contribute to our meal."

"I must say, I've never seen Chase Graves and imagined whining," Ravi said.

"You imagine Chase Graves a lot?" Liv snarked and Veronica snorted, but Ravi just rolled his eyes and continued.

"I just mean, was it that he was unhappy about not getting in on the gourmet meal?"

"Oh, God, no. He's a brain paste guy all the way." Veronica sighed. "He's all about the innocuous combination of a lot of different brains. He thinks zombies on pure brains are too hard to manage."

"But he's okay with you doing it?" Ravi asked.

"He learned many, many years ago that managing me is way beyond his skill set," Veronica answered and Liv giggled.

"I'm done here," she said, turning to Ravi, who picked up the bone saw from the metal table beside him.

"Can I look at her before you do anything—" Veronica gestured at the saw "—extreme? If you do your test and find out the brain's clean so we can do this thing, I want to make sure that what I'm seeing in a vision isn't myself."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Come on." Liv side-stepped and motioned Veronica closer. "Here you go."

Veronica moved closer to the table, glancing at her feet as she prepared herself to look at a person she was likely about to consume. It's not like she never had, but this was a new experience, actually wanting to get in a specific person's head to see if she could figure out who had murdered her. She reached the edge of the table, took a deep breath, and looked up at the still face. What she saw there made her mouth drop open in shock.

"Oh shit. I know her."

* * *

The ring tone that signified an incoming call from Veronica sounded and Logan heaved a sigh of relief.

"Cary, I have to take this call. Can we finish this conversation later?"

His right-hand woman's eyebrows rose ever-so-slightly, but otherwise, the look on her face remained bland. "Of course, General. We can finish this discussion at your convenience."

Logan snatched the phone up and barked, "Graves. Hold on," then covered the phone with his hand. "I'm sorry about the interruption, Cary, I appreciate your flexibility."

"Of course, sir," she replied smoothly, and left the office. He watched her walk away through the glass walls. He'd been arguing with Veronica long enough to be able to tell when a woman was irritated and trying not to show it. Not that Veronica held back with him too often, but he'd watched her pretend to not want to strangle other people for enough years that he could read the signs. He needed to start paying more attention to what Cary was suggesting. She was smart, and useful, and he wanted to keep her on his side.

He held the phone back to his ear and said in a far more conciliatory tone, "I'm sorry, I had to get rid of Cary, and I didn't want her to know I was ending her briefing for a personal call."

 _"It's no problem. You've got an image to maintain. Tough guy in charge of the world. Hen-pecked hubby is so counter to that."_ Her voice sounded amused, and he was relieved.

"So, how may your hen-pecked hubby help you this afternoon? Just remember, I'm not available for certain kinds of help right now. How's your new brain going?"

 _"Yeah, haven't had the brain yet. Dr. Chakrabarti had to do some testing before we could move forward. I'm actually looking forward to some Brain Parmesan with a nice Chianti, but not_ _until tomorrow. I'm back at the hotel now, in case you wanted to get over here. I have some news."_

Logan had grinned when she mentioned that she was still her, for another night at least, but he frowned at her tone as she said she had news. "What kind of news?"

 _"Well, you got to Seattle before I did. Were you aware that Celeste Kane was living here?"_

"Oh, God, no, did you run into her today? When did she leave Neptune?"

 _"She's been gone from Neptune for several years. Once she and Jake divorced, she was gone. I always assumed she'd relocated to their Napa house, and maybe she did, at first, but apparently she's been a resident of Seattle for the last three years."_

"I'm surprised that you talked to her long enough to find all that out. You two were never really each other's favorite people." Logan logged off his computer and stood, preparing to head for home.

 _"Well, here's the thing. She didn't actually tell me herself. I read it in her police file. Celeste's murder is the one I'm supposed to be trying to solve. She's in the morgue right now."_


	4. Chapter 4

Veronica giggled as Logan scooped her off the desk, then moved to dump her unceremoniously on the bed.

"You and your weird desk fetish," she snarked up at him, rolling to squirm beneath the sheets. "I think we've done it on the desk as much as we have on the bed."

"That is not true," he protested before scooting in beside her. "And it's not about the desk as much as about the—"

"I know, the bang with a view."

His mouth dropped open in disbelief at her statement, then he lunged at her and she shrieked as she dove under the covers to escape his tickling fingers.

"Logan...Logan...stop! Logan!" She thrashed and laughed, smacking her palm against his chest and arms, until he snugged her arms against her sides and stretched out flat on top of her, effectively ending her struggles.

"Must you be so crude?" he asked, ducking his head to nibble on her neck. "Would it kill you to see the romance once in a while?"

"I dunno, it might," she answered breathlessly. "Although it's far more likely that you squish me to death in bed some night." She pounded her heels, pretty much the only body parts she could move, against the mattress. "I know muscle weighs more than fat, but Jesus, this is ridiculous."

"Fine." He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top. "Better?"

"If breathing is my priority, yes." She wriggled down his torso until she could grind her pelvis against his. "There. Even better."

He traced his fingers up and down her back. "You're insatiable."

"I always thought you liked that about me." She poked him in the chin. "I could stop."

"Nah. We're good."

Veronica rested her head against his chest and sighed. "Yeah, good."

They lay in silence for a few moments before Logan spoke again. "So, you didn't answer me before; you just jumped me to change the subject. Are you really gonna go through with this?"

"You think I jumped you with ulterior motives?" She lifted her head to give him a wounded look. "How could you think something like that?"

He snorted and raised his hand to comb through her hair. "Uhh, maybe because I know you?"

"Hmmph." She pouted at him for a moment, but when he merely raised his eyebrows at her, she shrugged and lay her head on his chest again. She'd known she couldn't avoid this conversation indefinitely. "Okay, fine, say what you wanna say."

"I don't think you should do this. Not the brain investigating, that's not the problem, I just don't think you should do it with Celeste. Wait til someone else gets murdered. There's enough people in this town; it's gonna happen."

"Seattle's pretty safe actually. Murder rate is fairly low for a city of its size."

"Veronica." His tone was growing more exasperated and she realized she needed to at least listen.

"Okay, sorry. There will be another one, but why wouldn't I do this one? We talked about this yesterday. Isn't it even better to be able to solve something with a personal aspect? Justice for Lilly's mom? Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

"Come on, Veronica, justice for Celeste Kane? Do not even pretend with me that you care about that. There's been times in your life where I think you might even have been willing to help someone commit this exact crime. So don't try feeding me that line of BS." He took his hands off her back and shifted out from under her, then pushed himself to a seated position leaning against the headboard. "No fair grinding on me when I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

Veronica chuckled and scooted up to sit beside him, pulling the sheet up under her arms. "Sorry. Wasn't doing that on purpose."

He snorted and put his arm around her shoulders. "Okay, fine. Just force of habit, I guess. So, even if you have gotten some noble idea about solving this crime, for Lilly, or whatever, then just let Liv eat the brain and help her with what she sees."

"How is that any different? It's just going to take longer."

"Maybe, but it's all kinds of dysfunctional to get in the brain of someone who hated you, and your mother, for years. You're going to take on that mindset? I've hated myself before, in a self-induced kinda way, so it was at least tempered with some self-interest. What's it gonna do to you without that personal filter, becoming someone who actually hates your guts and probably wouldn't be sorry to see you in that morgue?"

She twisted to face him, resting her hand on his chest. She'd really thought this was just more of the same old arguments, but those had all been more playful than anything and now he looked...almost anguished.

"Logan, seriously, this isn't that big of a deal." She scooted closer, leaning into him while stroking his chest soothingly. "One: I'm still me, and I think I'm a pretty strong personal filter for my own self-interests. And two: Celeste probably hasn't thought of me in years. I really think you're blowing this into something much bigger than it really is." She dropped a kiss on his shoulder. "Liv says she just gets visions about the murder, or things related to the murder. I certainly don't have anything to do with that."

"Of course you don't," he said, thumping his head back against the headboard. "But Liv only see things about the murder because that's the majority of information she has about the person whose brain she ate. You've got all kinds of other connections to Celeste, so you're probably going to see more than just the events of the last few days. You could actually see her, experience her, when she was setting up your mom to get scared out of town, or when she was getting Duncan to break up with you before Lilly died."

"Hey, maybe I can find out if she lied to him out of spite, or if she really did think I was Jake's kid," Veronica said, suddenly realizing the possibilities in getting insight into Celeste's thoughts beyond just solving her murder. Logan banged his head against the headboard again, groaning as he did so.

"That's exactly what I'm concerned about. You getting into her thoughts, _and her feelings,_ about everything back then."

"Why? It'd be nice to finally find out what she thought she was accomplishing. I mean, it's not information I need, but it's interesting to get this chance." She sat up to look at Logan again. "Why is this a bad thing?"

He heaved a long sigh. "I've been in that place. The self loathing. Wondering if there's any point to going on? There was time before I found Harrison where I really wondered...why I bothered to stay in the world. Putting her hate for you in your head...it just seems like too much risk to me."

"Oohhh. Now I get it." The caressing hand stopped and smacked against his pec. "Child please. It's Celeste Kane. The day I can't take Celeste Kane...dead Celeste Kane no less..." She smacked him again. "You need to get a grip and stop worrying so much. You're like an old lady."

"I am not." Logan pulled his arm from around her and pushed out of bed. "Just because I'm concerned about my wife taking chances for no reason other than she thinks it sounds like fun does not make me an old lady." He looked around the room, then started for where she'd pushed his boxer-briefs off him in an earlier, much more gratifying part of the evening. "I'm going down to the gym."

"Oh no, you're not." She rolled out of the bed and followed him across the room. "Look, let's say you're right, and Celeste's brain overpowers me enough to really try to make me nuts, or even suicidal. You know what we do then?" She pressed him against the desk he liked so much and stepped between his feet. "We interrupt the flow with brain paste. That'll dilute the influence right away. You know that works. It's not like she's possessing me and you've got to find an exorcist. Even if you have to hold me down and squeeze that nasty junk down my throat, once I'm back to being me again, I will understand. Remind me of this conversation, and I won't even give you a bad time."

Logan shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. "You say that now."

"Cross my heart." She mimed an 'X' across her bare chest.

"Don't say, 'hope to die'," he grumbled, then kissed the top of her head.

"You're ridiculous," she said fondly, running her hands up to link behind his neck and tip him down toward her so their foreheads were pressed together. "Look, I'm not going to take unnecessary risks. I'm not nineteen, trying to prove that I don't need anyone so no one can hurt me. I do need you, and I know you need me, and I'm not going to do something that could make our children mom-less. It's bad enough that we've had to be away from them so much because of this stupid zombie thing. I'm not going to jeopardize anything else we have. Okay? Just please trust me. You don't have to worry about me."

"Too late," he responded, but he smiled down at her. "All right. I'm not making any promises about not worrying, but I do trust you—" she raised her eyebrows and he rolled his eyes "—I do, and I'll stop trying to talk you out of this. As long as you've got some tubes on hand...just in case things don't go quite like you're expecting."

"It's gonna be fine." She stretched up to kiss him and he pulled her up to straddle him. "On the desk again, hmm?" She planted her knees on either side of his legs and moved to take him inside her. He leaned further back on the desk, letting her set their pace. "You know, you're right." She grinned down at him and he looked at her questioningly.

"I expect so, but about what specifically?"

"This _is_ a great view. I've usually got my back to it when we're up here, but I can see why you like it."

He scoffed and shook his head, then slid a hand from her hip to stroke her core.

"Think they'll sell it to us when the house is ready?" she asked in a teasing voice.

"The view? Might be kinda tough to move that."

"Just the desk, smart guy." She poked him in the chest with her finger, but he smirked at her as he grabbed her hand and pulled it flat against him, over his heart.

"Oohh, okay. I may be able to do that if you'd like." He pulled her hand up and kissed her fingers, then pressed them to his chest again. "It's a nice desk though. Sturdy. It's probably pricey."

"I think you can handle it."

* * *

The following afternoon, Veronica was again in the morgue with Liv, watching regretfully as Liv prepared a single slice of brain.

"It's not like me to let anyone, even Logan, talk me into or out of what I want to do."

"But he got in your head on this one, didn't he?"

Veronica gave her companion a wry smile. "Maybe a little." She shrugged and shook her head. "His issue was someone else in my head, but he's the one making me second guess myself, not Celeste Kane."

"Well, he might be right," Liv said. She moved a slab of brain from the heavily spiced egg mix it had been soaking in and dropped it onto a plate of bread crumbs. "If this woman didn't like you, maybe it wouldn't be the brain for you to try out."

"You're going to try it," Veronica countered. "Is it a good idea for you to hate me? I have very few friends who I'm not related to."

Liv gave a disbelieving laugh as she continued to bread the brain, but Veronica shook her head again. "You think I'm joking, but I am so not."

"Even if that's the case, I get over it. Ravi will tell you; sometimes the brains make me nearly impossible to tolerate."

"Oh yeah, I know how that works." Veronica stirred another spoonful of horseradish into the marinara. "Really early on, when Viv and Harrison were shipping me brains down in SoCal, they sent me one that turned out to be from this social media influencer wanna-be. I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but she was awful. And I never knew if Harrison did it on purpose or not, he said he didn't know who she was, but he sent it right before Logan came home for a couple of weeks. And this brain really liked him."

"He must have loved that."

"No, just the opposite. He hated this other girl chasing him, even when she was living in my body, and he flat out refused all of her—our—overtures."

Liv threw her head back, laughing. "Oh no, that must have sucked."

"You're right about that. He'd been gone for a while on some overseas thing, and he's finally home and he won't let me anywhere near him. Luckily, that was about the time that the Fillmore-Graves people finalized the brain paste process and Viv sent a box down to me. Cleared the vapid twit out and fixed our little problem." Veronica gave a sigh of contentment, but then felt her cheeks warm as Liv laughed again. "Umm, you know."

"Indeed I do." Liv stabbed the slice of brain with a fork and lifted it from the plate of breadcrumbs. "So, no _parmigiano del cervello_ for you?"

Veronica rolled her eyes to the ceiling, grumbling to herself. "No. I guess not. Not until you get another murder victim."

Liv nodded, and turned to place the brain in the hot oil on her single burner hot plate. The sizzling sound made Veronica grumble again, but Liv gave her a friendly smile.

"I think it's sweet that he's looking out for you. And that he's such a one woman kinda guy that he pushed off the fan girl."

"He didn't push a fan girl away, it was still me. He obviously would push away an actual other woman. He's fond of his private parts." Liv laughed again, but Veronica shook her head. "No, that's not fair; I'm just being bitchy. The smell of garlic-drenched brain frying in garlic-infused olive oil is getting to me. It is sweet. He is sweet."

"Talking about me, ladies?" They both turned to see Ravi leaning in the doorway.

"You wish," Liv replied. "If you must know, Mr. Nosy, Veronica was talking about her husband."

"That's Dr. Nosy to you, and Chase Graves is sweet?" He stepped into the room, a skeptical look on his face. "I'm pretty sure that's not the reputation he's cultivating around town. I mean, Liv, he shot your boyfriend." He stopped and sniffed loudly. "You know, if I didn't know that was a human brain you're cooking, I'd say that smells pretty good."

"I know, doesn't it?" Veronica exclaimed. "And I'm missing out. Can we make this again when the next brain comes through? But, first..." She swiveled back to Liv. "Logan shot your boyfriend? Why am I just now hearing about this?"

Liv shrugged. "It was before you got to town, and it's not exactly an easy segue during dinner conversation. Plus Justin seems to be over it, so when Peyton wanted me to come with her to dinner with you guys, I kinda figured I should try to be over it to."

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get over it if someone shot Logan," Veronica said with a frown. "Like ever."

"I'm not all that surprised by that news," Liv said as she turned the brain to brown the opposite side. "So, sure you don't want some of this? We've got quite a bit left of this brain."

"What's the storage protocol?" Veronica asked. "I'm sticking with no for now, but depending on what you see, I might change my mind later."

"Don't worry, you're good for at least a week," Ravi advised. "On top of the cure, I'm working on some other ideas that could result in longer term preservation, but for now, it's just the morgue refrigeration."

"Like pickling?" Veronica wrinkled her nose. "Maybe..."

"That would not be conducive to this delicious meal," Liv said, turning toward them with the nicely browned slice of brain. Veronica leaned forward with an appreciative sniff as Ravi grimaced and stepped back.

"Okay, let's get some sauce and more cheese on that and then we'll see what Celeste has to tell you." Veronica grabbed the container of spicy marinara and put a large dollop on the breaded brain. Ravi shook his head and backed toward the door.

"I'll let you guys alone. It creeps me out when my mouth waters over your brain dishes."

"At least bring us the wine, you wimp," Liv called after him as she sprinkled cheese on top of the sauce and slid the whole thing into her toaster oven.

"Please," Veronica added and Ravi raised a hand in acknowledgement, then disappeared into his office before returning with the bottle of wine that Logan sent them yesterday, and two glasses.

"None for you?" Veronica asked.

"No, I've got...plans for tonight. A meeting."

Liv turned to him with a startled look. "A meeting? Tonight?"

"Yeah, with those guys...we met. You know..." His lips pressed together and his eyes shifted sideways to Veronica and then away.

Veronica chuckled and shook her head. "Would you prefer if I left the room so you can actually speak in full sentences?"

"No, no, it's just, it's related to another case," Liv said quickly. She looked at Ravi. "Are you going to be okay on your own?"

"Sure, sure. These guys, they're no big deal." From the look on Liv's face, it appeared that she didn't agree.

"Maybe I should hold off on this—" she gestured toward the toaster oven, then stepped back to it and opened the door, pulling the pan out.

"No, you need to help Clive." Ravi nodded firmly. "Stop worrying and eat up. Mrs. Graves wants to hear who killed her old friend."

Veronica snorted. "Again, it's Veronica, and Celeste Kane is about the furthest thing from an old friend as you can get. Is she was, there wouldn't be any issue with me being the one to eat that meal. But I can, if I need to. We know Logan isn't crazy about the idea, and he might have reason, but Liv, if you need to do something else..."

"Nope, she's good." Ravi turned for the door again. "I'm going to wrap a few things up and I'll be back to see how you're doing."

Liv watched him go with a frown, but then turned back to the prepared brain. "Okay, then, let's do this thing." She moved it from the pan to a serving plate, then sat down at the small table. "If you could, you can pour the wine and give me some insights about my meal."

* * *

Liv snapped out of the vision with the usual roar and rush. Most of her meal still sat in front of her and she was clutching her fork.

"That was the fastest a vision has ever come on," she said, when she was present enough in the now to notice Veronica staring at her with her mouth slightly ajar. "I wonder if that's from you talking about her as I ate."

"I've never seen someone have a vision quite like that," Veronica said. "I've had them, obviously, but I couldn't see myself." Ravi appeared in the doorway again, apparently having heard her mention the vision. He moved to the table where they sat and joined them.

"That was really quick. Can't believe I missed it." He looked over at Veronica. "So, did you say you've never seen Chase...sorry, Logan, or anyone else, have one?"

"Not like that, Logan's been a brain paste guy from really early on. In the very beginning, I've seen him eat unadulterated brains, but never very much at a time, and never with that level of response. Probably more like a _petit mal_ compared to the _grand mal_ I just saw her have _._ " Her eyes narrowed as she turned back to Liv. "I mean, I know a vision's not exactly like a seizure, but that was longer and more pronounced than anything I ever saw Logan experience." Her head tilted to the side. "So, what did you see?"

Liv took a deep breath, sorting through the memory. "We were in her living room."

"Here in Seattle?"

Liv nodded at Veronica. "Yeah, in the house where she died. The only other person I saw in the vision was a tall African-American man. He said, very stern and forbidding, _'He's not happy about this. This forced separation is a real problem and I'm getting concerned that he may take matters into his own hands if you keep fighting him on this. I don't think you really understand what he's capable of._ '" Liv closed her eyes and let the memory of the vision replay.

"She was aggravated by that. I could feel that in her. To me, he seemed vaguely threatening, but I didn't feel anything from her that made me think he intimidated her and he didn't say anything outright that would make me think she was in immediate danger. She sounded more condescending than anything else. She said, _'Of course I understand, I know all kinds of things you don't think I do.'_ That got his attention and he looked at her like he was trying to figure out exactly what she was talking about. Then she said, _'What you both need to understand is what_ I'm _capable of. You just need to tell him she's far safer if he stays away. I can't predict what will happen if he fights me on this. Do you understand me, Clarence?'_ Did you know anyone in her life named Clarence?"

Veronica nodded vigorously, excitement evident on her face. "Oh yes, I know exactly who she was talking to. And I'm pretty sure I know who she was talking about too. I just don't get why. She and Jake, her ex-husband, have been divorced for years. I don't know why she would still care who he's messing around with at this late date."

"Do you think the man in the vision is who killed her?"

Liv watched Veronica consider that idea, her face twisting as she thought. After a moment she shook her head. "My initial guess is no, Clarence wouldn't kill her. But who knows. It's been a decade since I dealt with any of these people." Liv started as Veronica stood abruptly.

"If you don't mind, I think I'm going to go do a little research. If you see anything else, can you text me?"

"Oh no, it's okay...if that's what you want. I'll finish up here and let you know if I have another vision." Liv caught Ravi's eye as Veronica began to shove her things back into her bag. He frowned at her, eyebrows scrunching as he glanced between the women.

"Great, thank you." She straightened and gave a quick wave to both Liv and Ravi. "We'll talk soon."

Liv stared after her as she disappeared, not re-focusing on Ravi until the door to the morgue slammed shut.

"Methinks Mrs. Graves knows something about this that she doesn't necessarily want to share," Ravi said.

"That's kinda my impression too," Liv replied. She took another bite of the sauced and breaded brain, chewing carefully. "All I know is that we better hope she doesn't end up stonewalling this investigation. Clive's gonna be pissed if she ends up driving this investigation into a ditch because she's trying to keep something quiet. I probably should have kept her out of this entirely once we found out she had a personal stake in this murder. It never occurred to me that she might have her own agenda."

"Maybe she just wanted to get started on the investigation," Ravi suggested. "Let's not jump to any conclusions yet about her motivations." He stood and waved his hand at Liv's meal. "You eat up and I'll get ready to go meet up with my anti-zombie buddies."

"Be careful. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

* * *

Veronica couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and her laptop. She sat in the back of the Uber and poked furiously at her phone, doing preliminary Google searches. A Prying Eyez website search would give better results, but she couldn't wait.

 _Lianne Mars...nothing since a drunk and disorderly arrest in 2014. Lianne Kane, maybe? Could they have finally gotten married? Apparently not, nothing under that name at all. Where is she? And why does Celeste still care whether Jake has anything to do with her? They've been divorced for years, but she's still trying to keep them apart? That's gotta be what this is about, right? And if I'm right about that, was it Jake or Lianne that finally got Jake's pesky ex-wife out of the way?_

Veronica sighed and banged her head back against the car seat. _And here's the big question. If Lianne's the one who finally got fed up with Celeste keeping them apart, are you going to help the Seattle PD arrest your mother for murder?_


End file.
